


All of Me

by Kotonichi



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Depressed Orihara Izaya, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Harems, Humor, M/M, Magical Realism, Mentions of Suicide, Multiple Personalities, Mutual Pining, One-Sided Attraction, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, all of Izaya’s personalities are little shits, alter ego, at first, everyone loves Shizuo, except Sakuraya, except himself :’(, kind of, mentions of depression, split personality, too many Izayas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 01:51:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15920484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kotonichi/pseuds/Kotonichi
Summary: Izaya’s personality takes on six lives of its own to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting Ikebukuro.One Izaya was bad enough; Shizuo didn’t know how he was going to handle seven. He better figure it out though, because the longer they walk free the less time Izaya has left.Too bad parts of Izaya’s personality are dicks.





	All of Me

**Author's Note:**

> My first DRRR fic so I hope you enjoy! Please leave a comment and let me know what you think :)

A sheet of bitter cold settled over the city of Ikebukuro, the unforgiving clouds denying the promise of warmth from its citizens braving the streets below. Hats and hoods bobbed up and down through the bustling crowd, shielding the worst of the cold while bundled up jackets protected their bodies from the rest. It had been the chilliest day by far that week, and if Shizuo remembered correctly, there was only a promise of worse to come.  


  
“Whew, sure is cold,” Tom said into his hands, exhaling warm air over his frozen digits and rubbing them together for warm friction. “I didn’t think we were getting snow ‘til tomorrow.”

  
Shizuo gave a halfhearted grunt in response, honey-colored hues tracing up to the sky where white flakes lightly sprinkled down from the grey clouds. Despite the thick cotton coat and dark scarf Tom tightened around his neck in retaliation from the icy bite of frost, Shizuo remained in nothing more than his usual bartender uniform, the chill barely more than a slight irritation to his furnace-like body. Still, his hands were shoved in his pockets as they walked back to the office from their last job of the afternoon, content to glare at the piling snow on the sidewalk as a pang of annoyance settled in his gut.

  
Tom, however, was in good spirits as the day had gone smoothly and with far less property damage than usual. He carried on his one-sided conversation with little mind to Shizuo’s silent presence. “I don’t mind snow in particular, but I’d be fine if it only snowed on Christmas. Walking through the slush is a pain in the ass and good luck getting a taxi when you gotta fight everyone and their mother for one.” Shizuo offered another noncommittal grunt, an acknowledgement that he heard sound coming from his boss’s mouth despite his own lack of attention, but his focus suddenly shifted to a new lingering feeling that caused a spark of unease sending his instincts on high alert. A faint, almost mint-like metallic scent wafted towards his nose, deepening his dazzling new scowl. “Smells like shit,” he said, cutting off Tom as his boss continued to whine about the weather.

  
The debt collector paused, raising an eye towards his taller companion. “What is it?”

  
At this point, Shizuo had stopped walking. The familiarity of the smell was a blue flame that instantly boiled the blood in his veins, clenching his hands into fists despite the reason for the reaction being nowhere in sight. “Izaya,” he spat between grit teeth, spinning around to see if he could find said nuisance, “he’s here. I can smell him, the damn flea is trying to infest Ikebukuro again.”

  
There was a wistful sigh from Tom as the cheerful mood from earlier fell at the prospect of a run in with the infamous information broker. He looked around, though like Shizuo he saw nothing of the signature black parka on any of the pedestrians around them. “Relax Shizuo, I don’t think he’s here. Do you see him?”

  
Shizuo took a bigger inhale, though the scent remained faint. He resumed walking at a much quicker pace. “No. But he’s close,” Shizuo insisted, “probably hiding like the coward he is. Don’t worry, I’ll find him.” He increased his pace.

  
Tom had to practically jog to keep up with Shizuo’s long angsty stride. “Wait! It’s not like anyone’s asking you to, let’s just get back to the office and turn in the dough. Lunch on me, alright?” He scrambled, trying to diffuse the situation before it got out of hand and failing miserably. Shizuo didn’t respond, though his walking slowed back to a more reasonable pace, the anger dying down a bit to a dull throb. Tom stopped beside him to take a few breaths of chilly air, thanking the gods for small victories. “There you go,” he praised, falling back into step beside his bodyguard. “I promise, if we stumble across him you can kick his ass out of the city to your heart's content. But you shouldn’t go looking for a fight, alright?” He asked softly, and Shizuo agitatedly reached up to run a hand through his hair in surrender.

  
“Yeah, I get it, Tom-san,” he agreed, though the strain in his voice betrayed how much he really didn’t. The scent was much fainter anyways, overcome by the various smells of the city, that seeking it out would have been more trouble than what it was worth. He could if he wanted to, he knew, but Shizuo bit back any retort he had and took a few deep inhales to get his rage in check. “That damn flea isn’t worth my time right now anyways.” Not with the promise of lunch on the way.

  
“Ohh, is Shizu-chan talking about me?” Came a cheerful lilt of a voice from just above them.

 _Oh please no_ , Tom mentally pleaded, though the instant deadly tension that rippled through the taut body beside him told him his prayer had been in vain. The anger flooded back in when Shizuo looked up, seeing a mop of black hair peeking over a metal scaffolding just a few meters above. His vision turned red, anger filtering out any rational response as he growled the man’s name under his breath in a deadly promise. “I thought I smelt shit. Saved me the trouble of hunting your ass down.”

  
Izaya grinned, a Cheshire-like flash of white teeth, before his head disappeared out of view. “Don’t destroy any property, Shizu-chan, I’ll come to you.” There was a shake of the metal as Izaya moved on the scaffolding before a flash of white launched over the side like a pole vaulter. Tom jumped back as Izaya landed gracefully in a crouch beside them on the sidewalk, standing up with a beaming smile as he readjusted his coat. Shizuo had to blink twice before he noticed exactly what the flea was wearing.

  
“What’s up with the getup? Did you lose a bet?” The blond scoffed, taking in the solid snow-white parka with white fur trim and four hot pink buttons done up all the way to his neck. He had matching white jeans on with white vans, pink soles a stark contrast against the grey sidewalk. Even more strangely, however, were the pink and white headphones settled around his neck with a pink wire leading down into his pocket. It was almost eerie to see the informant in something other than his usual trademark black getup, to the point there was a falter in Shizuo’s anger that granted him the possibility of questioning why Izaya was dressed up as he was and why the usual scent of the flea he caught a whiff of earlier was nowhere around him now.

  
Izaya tilted his head to the side in amusement as he considered Shizuo’s question, taking a brief glance at his own apparel before looking back up with startling hot pink eyes. “I think it suits me,” he said easily, never losing that smile. “Isn’t it cute?”

  
Shizuo wasn’t surprised by much, nor was he surprised often. However, he couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling that washed over him seeing the face that unmistakably belonged to Izaya with eyes that were most definitely not the dark, nearly crimson hues the latter naturally sported. Something was going on; Izaya had to be pranking him or something to distract him from some undoubtedly sinister plot. “What the hell are you planning, Izaya?” He growled, and even the mannerisms of the man in front of him were wrong: that teasing, calculated smirk was replaced by an easygoing grin, knowing eyes that were more open and expressive despite never losing their sharp intelligent gleam, and a relaxed posture that was more irritating than before because of the lack of intent to turn and run that usually fueled all of their chases. It was almost like a painting, an artist’s rendition of Izaya that captured his likeness but changed a few details to keep it original. But that wasn’t possible, right? “You’re pissing me off more than usual, so explain what you’re plotting so i can smash your face in.”

  
The smile widened as Izaya laughed, doubling over and clutching his sides in near hysterics as though the bodyguard’s confusion was the funniest thing on the planet. Shizuo would bet even Tom was just as concerned as he was, if Shizuo was willing to spare a glance away from the informant. However, they both stood there with eyes frozen on the sight, that wrong jovial laughter causing bystanders to look at them with confusion before hurrying away from the trio. Eventually, before Shizuo could get pissed off—even more, that is—Izaya straightened up and wiped a tear from his eye. It was terrifying to watch such carefree and happy expressions on the usually cold and untrustworthy demeanor; any time Izaya usually laughed or smiled, you could bet trouble would follow after. Though none of his usual brazen, condescending vibes lingered with the action, it did nothing to ease Shizuo’s tension.

  
“Ha! Wow, sorry for laughing, the whole situation is just hilarious.” Izaya took in their near-mortified stares with kind understanding, sending goosebumps up Shizuo’s spine. “I see where the confusion must come from, though. I look a lot like him, right?” He asked with another softer chuckle, a pale hand coming up and running though his stark black locks. “But I’m not really him. Izaya, I mean. Well, not completely anyways.” He skipped closer to stand before Shizuo, clasping his hands together excitedly. “I’m just a huge fan of yours. I wanted to meet you in person while I had the chance. We all do, in fact!”

  
“All?” Tom asked, and the supposedly not-Izaya turned towards him and nodded in affirmation.

  
“Yep!” He grinned happily, reaching forward and taking a stunned Shizuo’s hand without any hesitation on his part, as if they were old friends and Shizuo was absolutely not contemplating ripping his entire limb off. The contact was impossibly warm for the weather, as if Izaya’s hands were made of their own personal flame that negated any of winter’s effects. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance to see you so soon. I was just listening to Amuro-san and napping in the sun and bam! Here you are! Isn’t that funny?” He asked, shaking Shizuo’s hand warmly for emphasis. “And judging by your reaction, I must be the first you’ve come across. How lucky~”

  
Shizuo would have pulled his hand away and punched the living daylights out of Izaya—because honestly, how could it not be him performing some elaborate prank?—but there was too much stimulation, too much to take in that his mind was going haywire. The soft hands still warming his chilled fingers, the bright smile directed up at Shizuo in complete adoration, and the unusualness of the blinding white parka accented in pink. Nothing he was saying made sense, and it was only the bizarre appearance and performance that had him frozen still and allowed the shorter man to touch him. When his brain finally caught up to his body some awkward moments later, he yanked his hand away with enough embarrassed force to cause Izaya to stumble and pulled his arm back in preparation for a swing. “Fuck you, this isn’t funny anymore,” he snarled, but before he could unleash his fury, both of Izaya’s hands shot up in plea, along with a shrill “ _wait_!”

  
Shizuo paused, arm suspended mid air, and growled, expecting the man to attempt to flee. Izaya, however, instead of using the opportunity to run simply grabbed his headphones and put them back over his ears, adjusting them with one hand while his free hand dug in his pocket with the wire, pulling out an old looking pink MP3 and idly began flipping through songs. It must have been the complete and utter disbelief and confusion that Izaya of all people, dressed like he jumped out of some children’s cartoon, had the nerve to hold up his index finger in a wait gesture like Shizuo had any obligation to listen to him, that kept him frozen until the man finally settled on a song he deemed appropriate. “There, oh that’s good,” Izaya hummed in appreciation at whatever song must have filtered through the headphones.  
Shizuo snapped. 

  
“DAMMIT IZAYA I’M GOING TO KILL YOU!” He screamed, finally letting out his aggression with a fierce swing towards the face. Like hell he’d let the flea make a fool out of him!

  
Izaya, however, closed his eyes and dodged easily, left index finger flicking up and bouncing up and down to the beat of his song. When Shizuo swung again, Izaya hummed to the tune and sidestepped with a twirl, bouncing a bit with his knees before popping back up with another twirl, once again missing Shizuo’s grab for him. Another sidestep, a dip backwards, and a small shimmie with his shoulders made Shizuo see red as realization hit him. Izaya was fucking dancing, of all things. His eyes were still closed as he hummed along to his song, bouncing and twirling just out of reach of Shizuo’s fist without a care that a violent blond in a bartender suit was trying to kill him. “You fucking bastard!” Shizuo roared as he ripped the leg of the scaffolding off, sending the contraption down in a pile of metal.

  
Izaya stopped and opened his obnoxiously pink eyes, taking a headphone off his left ear with a smile. “Sorry Shizu-chan, did you say something?”

  
“DIE!” Shizuo screamed, swinging the thick pole at the informant. Izaya laughed and jumped, twisting his body over the bar while one hand latched onto it, letting himself be carried back to the height of the swing. When the motion stopped, Shizuo turned his head to see Izaya crouched on the top of the pole like a cat, waving happily from his spot. “You really are super strong!” He gushed, dragging his headphones down back around his neck. “I only wish I could stay longer and play, but I don’t want to catch his attention. So I should get going.”

  
Before Shizuo could flip him off his makeshift weapon, Izaya sprung off in a backflip, landing lightly on his feet. Shizuo grinned murderously. “You think I’m going to just let you walk away?” He asked, taking a threatening step forward and raising his pole. “I’m going to kill you once and for all you bastard!” He swung, though Izaya ducked and evaded with ease, not looking at all bothered by the violent outburst.

  
“I know, I want to stay and play more too, but it’d be scary if I got caught,” he sighed wistfully. He paused, glancing up at the sky in thought before clapping his pale hands together. “Oh! Let’s go snow gazing together next time we meet, okay?” He asked excitedly.  


  
“Like hell!” Shizuo screamed, though Izaya had already turned tail and began running off in the opposite direction.

  
“It’s a date! Bye, Shizu-chan! I’ll see you again soon!”

  
Shizuo barely heard that last bit, instinct already sending him off running despite the shouts of Tom calling him back. The afternoon crowd was thick despite the chilly weather, and Izaya managed to blend in with the foot traffic seamlessly despite his ethereal-white getup. Shizuo sniffed the air as he ran, looking for any scent he could trace of the flea, though there was nothing. Not that he could smell anything before; the bastard had managed to mask his scent to catch Shizuo off guard. Not to mention his strange attitude and appearance must have been a ploy to throw him off his game. There was no way Shizuo would have let the man go alive if he hadn’t been completely floored by the entire exchange minutes before their fight. If it could even be called a fight; Izaya was fucking dancing the entire time, not even paying attention to where Shizuo was swinging.  


  
He recalled how easily Izaya was able to jump from the scaffolding, along with how he had been able to balance and flip off the pole he had like he was some giant feline. Where did he get that skill?

  
“I—ZA—YA!!” He screamed, sending all who were in front of him scrambling to the side for safety, all too aware of his wrath. Izaya was gone though, having enhanced speed as well it seemed. Or invisibility. Hell, nothing would surprise him at this point. It was probably best he gave up the search and turned around, go back to Tom and have lunch like nothing happened, but adrenaline from the oddity of the entire exchange still thrummed through his veins and he couldn’t settle down. He wanted to know what was going on, why Izaya had been acting so weird so he could kick his ass properly.

  
If the flea was planning anything strange in his city, Shinra might know something about it. He and Celty seemed to have the most contact with Izaya than anyone else. Coming to his decision, he changed directions towards Shinra’s apartment, sending a quick mental apology to Tom for his ditching of work. Luckily Vorona was at the office so he wouldn’t be completely alone. 

  
A few blocks out, the agonizing familiarity of a certain someone’s scent picked up, and Shizuo could do nothing to bite back the threatening smirk as the smell grew stronger the closer he got to his destination.

  
Perhaps he’d get his answers after all.

* * *

* * *

 

 Celty! <3 (12:34 P.M.)

Shinra, you won’t believe it! I was on my way back from that job and I found Izaya bleeding on the ground, like someone just came around the corner and beat him up!

Celty! <3 (12:34 P.M.)

And left him there!

Celty! <3 (12:38 P.M.)

He doesn’t look too good and he’s not responding—I’m bringing him in. Be ready.


End file.
